To Dwell on Dreams
by ncfan
Summary: Different people find the Mirror of Erised.
1. Mandy

It just came to thought one day: What would certain people see in the Mirror of Erised? This is the result. Naturally, I'll be trying to think up plausible scenarios for how a particular person got to be in front of the Mirror of Erised and what they might see; please tell me what you think.

Disclaimer: I don't own _Harry Potter_ or _The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy_.

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><p>Mandy was bored beyond words when she ventured down into Billy's basement. Billy and his parents weren't home, and Grim was off reaping (<em>Fool; you are <em>my_ friend and you attend to _my_ needs first_), but they always kept the door locked and Mandy simply let herself in as she always did. They wouldn't stop her, and even if they tried… Well who were _they_, who were Harold and Gladys and Billy, to think they could stop her?

Mandy was bored, but Grim's trunk should offer sufficient amusement for one day. Maybe she'd dig out that book Grim had been reading once and use it to summon Yog Sothoth; that should be plenty of fun.

The light flipped on sharply as Mandy's finger strayed to the switch. From the top of the stairs she could clearly see Grim's trunk, gathering the shadows to itself in an attempt to hide itself from the girl.

But she could also see something else.

Something caught Mandy's eye—a flash of light reflecting off of something smooth. There was something new here.

It was a floor-length mirror Mandy had seen, glistening dimly in the light. Mandy's omnipresent frown deepened. Such a thing she had never seen here before.

"What does Grim want with a mirror?" she wondered to herself as she started down the stairs and walked towards it. "He's vain but there's more than one mirror in this house; he could always…" Mandy's voice trailed off as she came to stand in front of the mirror.

For a moment, the mirror had shown Mandy nothing but her reflection: blonde, pale, with a pink dress and a dark scowl. Then, something had changed.

Mandy no longer saw her reflection, at least not the way she would see it in a normal mirror. Instead, the cries of war filled her ears and she saw in the glass a vision of battle, men dying all around.

It was a gruesome battle and when all was said and done the dead outnumbered the living and smoke rose in sickly spires from the killing field.

A lone figure stood atop a hill, brandishing a tattered flag. Others started towards her, and in their hands they held the keys of the world, held up in supplication.

_We surrender,_ Mandy could hear them saying. _We surrender._

The one whom they surrendered to was a tall, beautiful woman with a fierce and lovely face, cruelty radiating from every inch of skin, _la belle dame sans merci_. Mandy looked deep into her eyes and saw…

…Herself.

At first, Mandy could only blink in surprise. Then, her bemused frown shifted, ever so slowly, into a grin split ear to ear, every tooth showing, glistening white.

"I like this mirror," she remarked, cupping her chin in one hand. "I think I'll keep it."

Now to figure out how to get the mirror out of the house. Maybe Skarr could be enlisted to help; he'd do _anything_ Mandy asked if she asked in just the right tone of voice.

Wouldn't anyone?


	2. Uchiha Itachi

Disclaimer: I don't own _Harry Potter _or Naruto.

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><p>Within the Akatsuki's hideout there were many rooms that few ventured into, lit only by the dim, rain-smeared light from the windows outside. They gathered dust and rarely saw the glimmer of human eyes, let alone regular company.<p>

Apart from one room, that was.

Itachi had no idea where the mirror had come from—one of Madara's spoils of war, no doubt, but where it had come from he didn't know. When he looked into it the first time, his heart nearly stopped. Upon regaining his bearings all he could think was _I didn't know an inanimate object could cast genjutsu_.

What he saw was not what he should have seen—in fact, he drew a kunai at first glance. What he saw was not his own face reflected there.

Instead, what Itachi saw was something that made his life into even more of a farce: himself and Sasuke, together and happy. Neither of them showed any signs of being smeared by blood or tainted by darkness; they both smiled back at him, only innocence shining out of their eyes.

Itachi could stand and watch for hours, and he often did, until something called him away from the room. He knew it was an illusion, but something always drew him back to this dark, remote room, the silence broken only by the patter of rain on the window.

_Look at what you've thrown away. How I wish things could have been like that._

It grew harder to look away each time.


	3. Raven

Some of what Dumbledore says in the letter is taken from PS/SS. I claim to own none of it; I just like to think that he would have said this to anyone happening to be near the Mirror for their own safety.

Disclaimer: I don't own _Harry Potter _or Teen Titans.

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><p><em>Miss Roth,<em>

_Once again I must thank you for volunteering to take possession of the artifact. Your credentials have proven genuine so I feel no further hesitation in passing it on to you. As the artifact in question is a floor-length mirror and thus is too large for our method of transportation, I was forced to utilize Muggle shipping in order to transport it to you. I pray the mirror is still intact when it reaches you._

_Since you expressed curiosity in your last letter and given that the mirror is now yours, I shall give you a brief synopsis of the mirror's history._

_This artifact is known as the Mirror of Erised. Around the frame is inscribed "Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi." When the position of the letters are reversed it reads "I show not your face but your heart's desire." The mirror does just that._

_Instead of showing your reflection, the Mirror of Erised reveals to you the deepest desire of your heart. If you are the happiest person in the world, you shall see only yourself. If you desire more than anything a pair of woolen socks you shall see yourself wearing such, and so on._

_I ask though, that unless your mental fortitude is great that you do not spend a great deal of time contemplating it or what you see in the mirror's depths. Men have been driven mad by seeing their heart's desire just out of reach, wasted away in front of it, or even taken their own life out of despair. For your own wellbeing, I ask that you do not think greatly on it, for it does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live._

_Beside that, I hope that your attempts to further understand the nature of the Mirror of Erised and its origins bear fruit. If all goes well, my owl will arrive shortly before or after the arrival of the Mirror; please send a letter back with the owl to inform me when the mirror reaches you._

_Sincerely yours,_

_A.P.W.B. Dumbledore_

Raven sighed as she finished up with the letter, eyeing the large mirror now taking up space in a back corner of her room. Getting out pen and paper, she sat down at a table and penned her reply.

_Mr. Dumbledore,_

_I have received the artifact in question and find it to be intact. Thank you again for allowing it to pass into my possession_

Raven tapped her chin with the end of her pen; _What to say…_

She bit her lip and continued on.

_without requiring a direct interview; my work necessitates that I not leave my home. If I make any progress in discovering the Mirror's origins, I will pass the information on to you._

_Sincerely,_

_R. Roth_

Raven folded the paper in two and took an envelope from her desk, pausing to scrawl an address on top. When she slipped the letter inside the envelope and sealed it shut, Raven turned to the Barn Owl perched waiting on the desk; it had come in when she half-opened her wide window.

"Here you go," the young girl murmured, securing the letter around the owl's outstretched ankle. Without further adieu, the Barn Owl left the way it had come, and Raven got up to close the window shut; it was looking like it might rain.

Another sigh, deeper than the first, hit the still air when Raven's eyes settled on the mirror.

She stood in front of it and saw again what had so startled her when she first took the mirror from the cardboard box and the plastic peanuts and the bubble-wrap. Herself, draped in white, smiling openly and looking more content and at peace with herself than the real Raven ever had.

"You show my heart's desire," Raven muttered, folding her arms around her torso as if cold. Her eyes narrowed at the white-cloaked reflection of herself. "Yeah, like that's ever going to happen," she mumbled indistinctly, reaching for the white sheet to throw over the mirror.

Dumbledore need not fret. Raven knew better than to dwell on dreams.


	4. Henry VIII

Okay, I have recently started watching _The Tudors_. Though I have not gotten to the point of Anne Boleyn's execution and Henry VIII's marriage to Jane Seymour, I have devoured upwards of thirty historical fiction novels and biographies detailing the lives of Henry VIII, his wives and children. I will identify this as being the incarnation of Henry VIII from _The Tudors_ because I like to think I have a decent grasp of his character; complain if you want.

To **Swampflare**, I can't seem to contact you, so please tell me if you're reading this: what is TF2? If I'm familiar with it I might write for it.

I hope my characterization comes across as genuine to you.

Disclaimer: I don't own _Harry Potter_ or The Tudors.

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><p>Henry Rex, Eighth of that name and second King of England of the Tudor line likes to think that, by now, he is reasonably familiar with Whitehall Palace. Familiar enough to know that the door in front of him ought not to be there.<p>

Curiosity piqued, Henry presses open the door.

The room is large and generous in its area, flooded with hot summer sunlight and completely empty, devoid even of wall hangings or curtains, except for a large, ornate floor-length mirror standing directly opposite Henry at the other side of the room.

He frowns.

From this distance he can't be sure, but Henry is seeing something in that mirror that he's certain shouldn't be there, running shapes, vague and blurred. He cranes his head around but, sure enough, he is alone in the hall.

Once again curiosity is insatiable and Henry takes a step forward, then another, then another.

When he gets close enough to the mirror to see what it was that caught his eye, Henry stops dead in his tracks, face blanching bone white. _Sorcery… _Witchcraft, it must be witchcraft. That can be the only explanation for what he's seeing.

He sees himself, seated next to his wife, and around them run two boys. Their spectral laughs and screams of excitement make the air feel tight.

Henry's expression of horror melts into the warmest of joy. _Sons. This mirror… It must portend the future. My Jane will give me sons. Fine, healthy sons for England. Fine, healthy sons for me._

Henry goes away from the room feeling lighter than he has in months, a great weight lifted from his shoulders. In future, he tries to find the room again, but to no avail. It has been swallowed into the ether, along with that wondrous mirror.

If Henry had managed to find the mirror again, perhaps his joy would have been muted when he finally noticed that the hair of the woman sitting next to him, looking on their children with love was not golden, but raven dark.


	5. Mother Gothel

**Swampflare**: Sorry, never heard of it.

Hope you guys like this spin on Gothel; I feel I should tell you it's AU from my _Tangled_ oneshots.

Disclaimer: I don't own _Harry Potter _or Tangled.

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><p><em>Mirror Mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all? <em>So the old rhyme goes for a vain sorceress queen. So the old rhyme goes for the progenitor of all wicked stepmothers. The Queen gave Snow White the poisoned apple and Snow White dies. The Prince finds the girl's corpse and wants to take it home with him, to do things to it that don't bear repeating. While her glass coffin is being moved one of the servants accidentally jostles it and out comes the chunk of apple, and just like that Snow White lives again.

Gothel is Snow White, but she didn't ever get that Prince (he married a girl actually of royal blood—a girl not just some king's bastard—and drops Gothel like a hot coal after he's taken his fill of her) and she eventually takes up her stepmother's habit of staring into a magic mirror.

_Mirror Mirror on the wall, who's the youngest of them all?_

This is what Gothel sees in the mirror she keeps in a dark room of the tower: herself, eternally young and beautiful, roaming as the world changes until the end of time.

_I keep kingdoms under my spell; beauty is as much a weapon as any dagger and I will use it well._

If it wasn't for the need to care for Rapunzel, Gothel thinks she'd sit in front of this mirror all day.


End file.
